


i taste you in every shot that i take down

by MiniInfinity



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Post-Break Up, soonyoung is drunk here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 05:27:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13116999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiniInfinity/pseuds/MiniInfinity
Summary: Weeks after they broke up, Soonyoung's ringtone is the only one Seokmin thought would never play again from his phone.





	i taste you in every shot that i take down

**Author's Note:**

> in case you didn't catch it in the tags, there are mentions of alcohol and drunk!soonyoung in here.  
> thank you again, Adelin, for hosting another fic fest!  
> and merry christmas eve to those who celebrate and happy soonseok day!

Christmas Eve cracks the world's worst joke on him today. Plans of having a light jog during his first break of the season, hopes of being caught only in short spells of flitting snowflakes, completely destroyed when the weatherman calls for rain. Plans of leaving the physical world to escape into solitude always interrupted by his phone vibrating across his kitchen counter, wooden nightstand, shaking in his own pockets, with his friends asking what's up and reminding him that if he wants to talk, they'll be there for him. He replies to every one of them with a thank you and leaves it at that. He wishes they get the hint that the one way to be there for him is if they aren't even here with him in the first place.

He believes that Soonyoung is living his life well, flashing his choreography somewhere in Europe, maybe. He doesn't know exactly where and what Soonyoung is doing at this point in time. He didn't ask for much information after he told Soonyoung to leave.

A string of voicemails drains the battery of his phone a lot faster than usual, but he doesn't listen to them. If they're so hung up on helping him get over a breakup, why wouldn't they just stop mentioning it to him and leave him alone? If he actually does pick up a call, he would probably hang up in a second. His ears don't have enough room to shove in questions of if he's okay, justifications that Soonyoung never deserves a man like Seokmin. What others don't know is that it's the complete opposite behind Seokmin's last words to Soonyoung, that Seokmin doesn't deserve a man like Soonyoung. And for once, he wants some space and he thinks he'll live fine then.

He starts his way back to his apartment and monochrome screens the entire city like ash, takes away bits of sunshine glinting off window corners, blinding car doors, sparking eyes of passersby. He walks down sidewalks of small shops, some quaint stops he visited once or twice before with Soonyoung. Most reviving memory into his brain, yet some unfamiliar and a little fuzzy at the back of his mind, since all wishes that they'll try out that one spot were mere whispers. Because the two ended up staying home, legs so entangled that if someone walked in on them, that someone wouldn't be able to guess whose leg is who's, where one waist starts and the other end, who's really wearing this shirt.

His feet start heading down faster, forgets about other citizens walking down the same path, and nearly bumps his chest into a narrow back of a young woman. A quick turn of his shoulders to apologize, and he skitters off that block.

His chest gives up on him and breathing becomes just as hard as finding his way back home when memories flash on display in almost each of these shops. Soonyoung surprising Seokmin with a cake at the cafe that recently opened up, a ten-minute walk into the city after an elevator ride down. Seokmin sneaking out and into the the first dance studio Soonyoung worked at to decorate the entire place for his birthday, asking this one guy named Junhui if there was a fire extinguisher nearby in case he messed up. The two walking up and down all aisles of the stationary store and exiting the place with three notebooks and a handful of fine-point pens, so colorful that the rainbow that Seokmin wishes would show up later in the day creeps up in jealousy.

Are the shops really selling products to Seokmin or are they trying to sell back his memories with Soonyoung?

He picks up the drop in speed, hurries back to his apartment before the stupid thought of not bringing an umbrella bites back in a lesson learned. Rain presses down onto his thin hood and bleeds right through the fabric on his arms, spikes a shiver as he takes faster steps down. But before he reaches the last crosswalk button home, a ringtone shudders through his pocket and shatters him clean. He barely hears it through the muffled drumming of rain at his hood, slow piano keys lulling into beats of precipitation, one that Seokmin picked for Soonyoung's number specifically because it was the only tune that coerced the dancer off slumped shoulders and lethargic limbs.

The answer button doesn't even reach his vision when his thumb taps on the green in an instant, but it's not Soonyoung's voice he hears at the other side. Seungkwan's voice answers with formality at every sentence, to someone that's not Seokmin himself, and drops him right in the middle of a conversation.

Seokmin finally asks a "Hello?" that's weak and melts right into the rain, and he coughs once more to clear out his throat to say hello again. Seungkwan's words stop all at once to ask where Seokmin is right now. "I'm out."

"I'm so sorry, Seokmin, but Soonyoung is at the bar and I don't think he'll be fine until he sees you." His heart collapses at that. He pushes the white lie and answers that he's in front of his apartment building. "Maybe I'll drive Soonyoung there." Seungkwan's voice fades a little into what bare space lies between his lips and the phone, "You'll see Seokmin soon, okay? Just hang in there, Soonyoung."

 

Seokmin punches in his code; the first time offers him erratic beeps of a wrong combination and after wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, he finally steps in the lobby. He probes the tears at the corners of his eyes on his way to the elevator, cupping the phone close to him and knowing that he should have hung up long, long ago. He shouldn't have picked up his phone in the start. The conversation at the other side keeps rolling on, and Seokmin finds himself sniffing in between Seungkwan's comforting words, dry slides of a hand over fabric.

"Are you allowed to miss someone you're supposed to hate?" Soonyoung asks weakly, and the alcohol plays his voice like helium. Seokmin starts to bite into the nail of his thumb, finally gives the tears their own directions and drip onto the tile elevator floors. He pulls the phone away from his lips; Seungkwan doesn't deserve to hear both sides of broken ends.

"But I can't hate Seokmin. How can you hate someone you love?" Seokmin resorts to biting into the wrist of his jacket and hears himself whimper out a cry, prays that Seungkwan never catches it.

"Seungkwan, try this drink with me. Can we save some for Seokmin?" He pleads more to himself that _no, Soonyoung, don't let Seungkwan drink._ The younger can't even tolerate the taste of alcohol and a single shot would take him out.

"I think I'll hate you forever if he wasn't there," slurs somewhere between a couple glass clinks. That single phrase punches him numb of his muscles and conscious of his thoughts, has him almost falling against the wall and wondering why he lives up so high, why wouldn't he be there for Soonyoung? He mentally gives thanks that no one else pressed for the elevator.

"I'll take you to him," then Seungkwans's voice crisps into clarity and into his ears, "I'll get going, Seokmin, okay?"

Seokmin sighs and thinks that there's no way he can prepare himself for this. He lets out a choke, a hook of air that his throat won't let him take for the sake of his lungs. He can't blame Seungkwan for taking Soonyoung to him, but he knows he won't be able to handle even stealing a glance at Soonyoung from across the street, at different corners of the world.

He drags himself to his apartment and starts to organize everything. He pulls out some pain medicine and it's a moment into realization that he still carries around some pain relief patches for when Soonyoung would come home limping and Seokmin would peel off the back layer and apply them wherever on the older's aches. He takes a couple out just in case and he even puts down some gummy vitamins Soonyoung forgot to take with him. Or did Seokmin buy the bottle for the two so that Soonyoung would stop running out after practices to buy another?

 

Just because he doesn't move a centimeter doesn't mean that time stops moving for him. He's been standing at the cabinet in the bathroom, staring at Soonyoung's medicine he left in his apartment, until he reads that the clock jumped from  _22:34_ to  _23:17_ and so much of his apartment still lives off fragments of Soonyoung. He thinks that's why his apartment seems dead from light, empty of actually feeling like a home than a prison cell.

The doorbell goes off and he starts his way to the entrance with a pounding heart. Soonyoung stands lifeless against Seungkwan's body, into the younger's arm, and Seokmin notices some rain at the borders of their shoulders. Guilt rids him sorry that he didn't even bother going out and helping Seungkwan take Soonyoung in, so he tells him that he'll carry Soonyoung inside.

Seungkwans' lips form apologies, but Seokmin slaps them right off, refuses to listen to them. "Where else would you take him?" tries to tease off the tension, but it still pains Seokmin because, really, where else would anyone take Soonyoung?

Seungkwan smiles at the attempt to lessen the mood and says he has to go now, "but never hesitate to call me when something happens, okay?"

Seokmin nods and lifts Soonyoung to his room with ease, blond hair lifting and falling in slow motion and from beads of sweat at the older's forehead. At his bed, it takes some coaxing of Soonyoung's unconscience to let go of Seokmin's jacket. When fingers finally loosen, Seokmin strips him off his wet clothes in fear that a cold will sneak its way through.

He sits in front of the closet, lays out Soonyoung's clothes that he should have thrown out weeks ago, and fixes them on Soonyoung with untroubled familiarity and troubles from the light weight of Soonyoung's limbs, repercussions of tonight. Slipping on an old shirt, Seokmin catches the sharp angle of Soonyoung's collarbone and wonders if he has been eating well. Is the weight really from Soonyoung's body or is it from the rain trying to cling onto his clothes?

When Seokmin carefully sets Soonyoung on the mattress, the older rolls over to the left side of the bed, the side Seokmin never occupies, and curls up over the sheets. Soonyoung's eyes flutter close and open, muttering something into the pillow. After a crane of his neck, Seokmin catches whispers of some botched syllables of who knows what.

He throws the blanket over Soonyoung and watches him hug the sweatshirt Seokmin left on the bed this morning. His heart can't be hurting, but it rips into the bloodiest pieces when Soonyoung asks, small smile that means the world to the voice that hangs fragile and pitched, "Seokmin? This one is Seokmin's."

He leaves a mug of water--because when morning comes, he knows the handle will help so much--and a trash can at the bedside after dropping off pain medicine and patches, the bottle of vitamin gummy bears on the nightstand. He grabs a spare blanket and yanks out a pillow that Soonyoung's head isn't lolling on and tosses them on the couch. He heads back into his bedroom for the sweatshirt, only to find it fitting loosely on Soonyoung, pulling the fabric closer to his skin.

"Seungkwan did bring me to Seokmin," he giggles as he inhales the hood he fixes past his eyes. "I missed Seokmin."

Seokmin sleeps with a heavy heart that probably left a dent on the couch after he barely hears a quiet, "I wonder if Seokmin missed me, too."

\----

The next morning, he watches the world of his living room scare off the darkness. Rays of sunlight shine right through the blinds from his kitchen and search for him, though he thinks it's been days since last night. Seokmin hesitates to look over the edge of the couch because he's scared to find Soonyoung standing there at the hallway before padding around with his sweatshirt on and walking over to the kitchen. He's scared to find Soonyoung plucking two bowls over the counter and picking four eggs from the fridge. He's scared to see Soonyoung taking the bowls and mugs over to the table and calling Seokmin that he made breakfast. He's scared that Soonyoung will greet his day with a, "Good morning. Do you know that I love you?"

Seokmin is scared that he'll open his mouth and on instinct, "Do you know that I love you more?"

He stops breaking down his fears when he hears soft footsteps on hardwood, slight pauses in between each one, but he doesn't get up. He sinks deeper into the cushions, wraps his blanket darker over his eyes. He half-hopes that Soonyoung goes straight out of the door, but the other half of him hopes that Soonyoung stays. It doesn't have to be for the morning; he can stay here for another or three. The rest of the week, month, year, or for the rest of Seokmin's life.

The steps ring louder into his ears and he listens to breathing that syncs up exhales with his inhales. He tilts his head on the armrest, looks up to Soonyoung settling down on the recliner besides the couch. Seokmin catches a couple of thin red marks on pale skin, blond hair pressed up into an invisible wall at the side of his head, and sleeves of his sweatshirt folding over his knuckles, to where he only sees shy nubs of Soonyoung's fingertips.

Soonyoung yawns, scratches his head with a fingertip, and he looks so small. Everything makes him look small. Like the clouds now seeping through windows make light from Soonyoung seem small.

Seokmin sits up and it's the first time they make eye contact. A tired smile falls into Soonyoung's lips and he guides the side of his head to his palm, elbow bent on the armrest. There were days where Soonyoung looked at him from the recliner, chin on his hand, but none of them are like today, this moment, where they were nothing less than somewhat miserable, somewhat longing for something right in front of them.

Seokmin contents with himself that he can have thousands of regrets while they were together, but none of them will pile up into one regret of falling in love with Soonyoung.

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by and title from the song ["Here Come the Regrets" by Epik High ft. Lee Hi.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UC5pmyVJ4t4) the one in the link is actually a live version but [here's a studio version too!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=98YwcYLTU-A) when it was confirmed that epik high would have a comeback, i knew i'd write something inspired by one of their songs, so this is what happened :D  
> anyway, happy holidays (including soonseok day!!) and thank you for reading!  
> here are some linkies if you want to scream at me: [tumblr,](http://seokmins-thighs.tumblr.com/) [twitter,](https://twitter.com/leescokmin) and [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/miniinfinity)


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